


And Here at the End of All Things

by ShadowSpires



Series: Déjà Vu [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSpires/pseuds/ShadowSpires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is ending. That's no surprise. Zatanna just didn't think it would be this hard to get rid of Dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Here at the End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Set between _Through a Glass, Darkly_ , and _Deja Vu_.

The air was sparking with the power flooding into the woman. Bright blue sparks like particularly virulent static arched off her long black hair, catching in the curls and fluffing it in a metaphysical wind.   
  
Zatanna's eyes glowed with silver-blue fire, seeing not the near-emaciated, haggard man sitting in front of her, one hand poised over a switch, one placed in her’s, but instead-   
  
_The same man, scarred and battle-weary, but sitting at ease, companions around him as they ate around a fire. Tension in them, even seemingly at ease, guns and blades and objects that glowed bright with power sitting within easy reach. Mysticism shone in the man, a connection to the Other and he looked up, seeming to sense her and-_  
  
  
 _Wedding bells rang out through the cathedral, and the bride, her normal radiance shining tenfold with the joy of this day laughed joyously, green eyes shining bright, hovering a few inches off the ground, unable to contain her joy. The black-haired man at her side shone too, smiling up at her as if she was his sun, hand reaching up to trail over his new wife’s belly, where new life had just begun to swell-_  
  
The cables running into her, grafted into her skin, her bones, seemed to pulse with power, snaking off into the depths of the cave where glowing screens streamed incomprehensible data. Cyborg and Adam Strange and Zatanna herself had put that together, an unholy combination of science and magic, feeding into her, helping her to find and sift through worlds, desperately searching for a way to get the last defenders of the planet away before the end. A huge circle sat upright closer, only feet away, dark and grim except for the occasional glimmer that danced around it’s circumference. But she did not see it.   
  
_Tired, he was so tired, cut off and adrift, far away from his family, friends. How had this happened, how had he gotten so far away from everything he was, everything he had been. He stared at his hands, red on his hands, and choked down a bitter laugh. How had he ever thought that was a good idea, god, didn’t he have nightmares enough without giving them this fuel? He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the scaffolding he stood on, not wanting to survey this city he had claimed any longer. He just wanted to go **home** -_  
  
  
 _Screaming, screaming, a world falling into chaos, overrun and hopeless, Onslaught from beyond; a flash of blue fighting a rearguard, hopeless but not able to relent -_   
  
The lightening in her eyes flared brighter for a second, and the rumbling underneath them increased, and the moss and ferns around them wilted a bit more as she snipped the connection to that world, cutting it off irrevocably from hers and all others, feeling the backlash tear at her, but ignoring it. Seeking, seeking. It had not been so hard with the others, only with this stubborn, beautiful cuss before her. He would make it difficult for her, wouldn’t he?   
  
_The crib was small and careworn, bought second-hand as they were passing through a town, but it had been refinished with love and painted bright colors to match the joy of the couple upon the news they were expecting. Bright blues eyes looked at her from a tiny face, looked directly at her and he cooed, reaching for the pretty lady who sparkled._   
  
She carefully slid away from that world, away from those too-aware eyes. Children see too clearly what they have not yet been trained to ignore. She gently cut that thread as well, sealing those innocent eyes away from the Onslaught, though it increased the rumble under them, and sent threads of white shooting through her hair.   
  
_Battle raged in the sea, and most of Europe was just...gone. The man who was somehow also not fought against it, tragedy in his eyes, but comrades at his side. Not the Onslaught, just the evil humans were capable of winning the battle this time._

  
_A dark man stood in a cave, swathed with shadows, his tragedies lined up before him, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 all sitting neatly in a line, locked behind glass windows, empty masks screaming out into the dark. His sons, his daughters, lost to his mission._   
  
Zatanna paused, consideringly. That one would work, would fit the strictest criteria of the spell. The man before her no longer existed there, but... she didn’t just want a world that would serve, she wanted one that would make him happy. He deserved that, at least, the last thing she could give him, and this world would only be a further torment. She wavered, uncertain, running out of time, not knowing when she would be able to find an alternate that would work but...no. She could not send him to that.

  
_A boy cackled, flipping impossibly, laughing as he threw disks which stuck and exploded, causing chaos in his wake. A bright yellow blur darted around the battle field, and arrows whistled precisely out of the distance._

  
_A young man, compact and strong, open and laughing lay across uncomfortable seats, a waiting room. His head was in the lap of an older woman, who looked down at him with a mother’s love shining in her eyes. Her hair had started to silver, and laugh lines carved ravines in the skin around her mouth and eyes with the currents of her love and laughter. An older man walked towards them, his smile and jaw a mirror of the younger man’s though the son had without a doubt gotten his eyes from his mother._   
  
She regretfully closed that world off as well. That one had no need or use for her scarred, battered friend, as much as she would like to give him a life of peace. The rumbling around them had increased to dangerous levels, but she could not see the concern in her friend’s face, did not see him, did not hear him, did not feel it as he shook her, though he knew better than to remove his hand from hers.   
  
_A young boy darted between older men and women, keeping his head down. A ratty cap was pulled low over his eyes, but a few threads of white peaked out from beneath it._

She paused. Normally first she would see the echo of the man holding her hand. If she did not, but saw this boy instead... She stretched her power, seeking deeper into this world.  
  
 _Another boy, his clothes neater than the first sat in a small, enclosed space. He pulled a blanket tighter around him, clutched his flashlight and whispered to himself that he was a big boy, and big boys were not afraid of the dark._  
  
 _A little red-headed girl begged her father for one more story, as he tucked her into bed._  
  
 _A man, haggard, but with fire burning in his eyes pulled a tattered coat tighter to himself, and continued his climb up a snow-covered mountain._  
  
 _A blond girl with a beautiful smile clung to her mother’s hand, chattering happily as they walked down the street._  
  
 _A dark haired girl stood silent and still as a man with a gun took aim and fired, the bullet which grazed her leg not garnering even a flinch._   
  
This was good, nearly perfect, but the spell still had not shown her what she needed to know. Her fists clenched, digging nails in to the hand of the blue-eyed man in front of her and she poured more of herself into the spell, demanding it show her what she needed to know.  
  
 _A green field, dotted with ivory and granite, overlooking the sea. On a hill stood three statues, graceful angels, two large and one small, clasping the hands of the others. On the smallest headstone was an inscription; **Richard Grayson, a bright life ended too soon. May you fly in heaven always.** _  
  
She gasped, eyes clearing abruptly of the silver-blue lightening as it flowed from her, through the wires to the ring just of out reach, flaring it to life as a glittering curtain creeped from the edges towards the center.   
  
“Dick,” she gasped and Dick leaned forward, cupping her face with one hand, eyes empty and lost. “That’s it Dick, go, go, quickly.”  
  
He wavered, looking between her and the ring. Could he do this? Leave her all alone?  
  
She saw the indecision, and blessed the Fates for helping her find the world she had, knowing it held the motivation she needed, since she lacked the strength to bodily kick the stupid, stubborn man through the portal herself.   
  
“They are there, Dick. Your brothers, Bruce, they are alive and there.” She saw hope, life, spark in his eyes where for so long there had been nothing but rage and sadness and bitter determination. He was already rising, turning towards the portal, hand pulling out of hers. For one impossible second she gripped him, terrified to let him go. He was the last, it was over. As soon as he left... But she forced herself to release him. He had felt her hesitation, though, and turned back to her and she wanted to curse herself, she had almost gotten him away, almost succeeded, but her own weakness had-  
  
He leaned forward, cupped her face in his hands, and pressed an achingly gentle kiss against her forehead. Tears dripped from his eyes, and that was worth it, worth everything, to have been able to restore him to himself, to let him cry the tears which had stopped when his last brother bled out beneath his hands. He had been the best of them, and to get that back, to be able to see it clearly, not lost in the depths of his hurting eyes? That was worth _anything_.   
  
“Thank you, Zatanna. Thank you for everything. I will never forget.”  
  
Then he stepped away from her, and within two steps he was through the portal, swallowed with nary a ripple.   
  
Zatanna wondered, idly, as she gathered the last of her strength, as she pulled all the power the machines could give her, if maybe there was a version of her in that world. If, maybe, in a world without the threat of the Onslaught they could still meet, could still be friends.   
  
_A wish for the fates,_ she thought, as her skin began to glow and crack, as the remaining foliage around her withers to dust, as she drained the very Earth of it’s power. _Let him be happy. Let them all be happy, and live the lives they deserve._  
  
She screamed as the power reached it’s peak and she released it, sent it outward to tear and burn the connections between this world, this nexus point, and all others. She sealed her dying world away from all the others, burning it clean. The life force of every living thing on the planet channeled through her, burning her up from the inside out. Across the globe volcanos erupted and the earth rolled and the oceans seethed and the Onslaught cried out with rage as they felt what was happening. But they could not stop it. She laughed through the pain through the tears. She had trapped them here, and now they would die. The earth was rending itself apart and she laughed as it swallowed her enemy.  
  
 _Maybe,_ was her last thought before everything was enveloped in silver-blue, _I will be happy somewhere too._


End file.
